the forest floors the palms of your hand
by callmesandy
Summary: The night before the room exploded behind them, Kensi and Deeks had sex. They did not make sweet love. (post ep for Absolution and Deliverance.)


notes: no profit garnered, not mine. title and opening quote from Kathleen Edwards's Soft Place to Land. Thanks to jf and sfa! xx

_I'm looking for a soft place to land_  
_the forest floor_  
_the palm of your hands _

It's not like she knew the next day would end with fear and a room exploding at her back. Kensi had no idea. It's funny to her that the night before was the first time they had sex.

The sex was pretty intimate, too. He laughed, pulling down her underwear. His breath was warm and beery in her ear, her hair fluttered. He said, "I can not get these down if you don't move your leg and I think we both want these out of the way, right?" She had a leg up, her bare foot digging into his calf.

"Fine," she said with a huff and put her foot down. She said, "Don't let them fall on the floor, it's disgusting in here."

"Where your feet are," he said. "We can do this somewhere else, you know. Does not have to be the bathroom of this bar. There's apartments and bathrooms of other places, or motels or bathrooms in motels."

"That is a good point," she said. She pulled her underwear up and looked for her jeans and shoes. "Are you still going to be up for this if we go to a second location?"

"I will be up for this at a third location, fourth location, tenth location. Whatever. I'm up for it." He adjusted his jeans and helped her get dressed.

"Ugh, these jeans are going to need to be sterilized," she muttered.

It started with the six of them, then after two drinks, Sam left. Wife and kids, she thought. She'd worked with him for close two years and had had no idea. She was a bad agent, she thought, sometimes. Callen and Nell left after that, still talking about the intricacies of the original Sonic the Hedgehog game. Deeks and Eric talked about surfing for the next thirty minutes while Kensi checked her email and read ZMZ. Then Eric remembered a standing appointment to game with a close personal friend in Myanmar. Deeks turned to her and mouthed "Myanmar" and she thought about his lips, his mouth. He reached out and twirled her hair in his finger. It was hot. He said, "That bit about fucking your brother this morning was hilarious."

She leaned forward and said, "I know. Your bit about the band was not hilarious. It was totally cliche."

He was still playing with her hair. And staring at her.

Five minutes later they were in the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later they were in her car, but he was driving.

"Motel no tell motel hotel," he sang, some nonsense tune. "Preference?"

"Hotel," she said.

It would have been weird to die in that concrete room the next day, her thighs sore. She had a lot of time to think, watching the room. Not moving. Not peeing. She was thinking about her autopsy. Depending on how she died, they would be able to tell she'd had sex. At least she got laid, she thought. Then he was there, then he saves her and she trusts him.

He helps her up after the bomb blast and they find a ladies room. She had peed a little when she landed on top of him. She sits in the stall, her hands pressing into her face, her elbows hard against her thighs. She inhales deeply, exhales in fits and starts. She thinks about the first time she had sex out of the blue, the boy was 15, she was 15, her dad was still alive and it was something she wanted but it wasn't something either of them did well. She wonders where Devon - Declan? name started with a D, green eyes, red hair on his head and between his legs. Where is he now, she thinks. Probably not trying to regain his composure after nearly being blown up. Probably not, she thinks.

So the night before they went to a hotel. He pulled off her jeans and told her to stay there, on the bed. He came back with two warm wet towels and cleaned her feet. She laughed. But it was incredibly sweet. "Do you have a foot fetish?"

"Not at all," Deeks said. "You were saying the floor was disgusting. I don't want you thinking about the state of your feet while we're making sweet love."

"Oh my God," she said. "We are not making sweet love."

"Fucking?" He smiled at her and rubbed her feet. He left the towels on the floor climbed onto the bed with her.

"Fucking," she said emphatically. "Doing it. Screwing. Not making sweet love."

"No love," he said, smiling. He kissed her.

Then they mostly didn't talk. He made a joke about the condoms in her messenger bag, she didn't laugh and told him to hurry up. He was beautiful naked. He babbled at her about how gorgeous and hot and amazing her body was.

He said, "Don't worry," when they were done.

She said, "That was pretty good. We could do it again."

He laughed and fell asleep curled against her. She petted his shoulder and back and fell asleep staring at the ceiling. In a good way.

When she woke up, he was walking out of the shower, pulling on his pants. "I need to go home," he said. "Furry friend waiting for me, who has probably peed on the floor."

"God, I hope you're talking about a pet," she said. She sat up and watched him leave. It was 5 am.

He knocks on the stall door, 13 hours later. "You good, Kensi?"

"I am," she says. She washes her hands at the sink while he watches her in the mirror.

"You look good for post blowed up, blown up." He grins.

They walk out and Callen and Sam are there. They both hug her, and she smells gunpowder. "We have a lot to do, sorry, Kensi," Callen says.

"I'm good," she says. "Let's get back to work."

She gets home and showers for as long as the hot water lasts. She has a text from Deeks same place as last night?

She replies bar or hotel?

She drives to the hotel and he's waiting outside the lobby, keys in his hand as he waves at her. "I felt like," he says. "I felt like I was worried about you and wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I've been blown up before, I've been taken hostage before," she says. She's smiling at him and following him to their room anyway.

"But this time you were my partner," he says.

"Yeah, it's all about you," she says, laughing.

"I mean, we slept together. It was like a horror movie, man, have good sex, the woman always dies." He rubs his face. "You didn't die."

"I know," she says. "It's like sex doesn't equal death and sometimes, people are allowed to be happy."

They're inside the room and he kisses her. "You know, I don't think you believe that," he says.

"I know," she says. They have sex again. They're staring at each other for most of it.

Kensi says, "See, I think last night was better than pretty good, frankly."

"And tonight was better," he says. He falls asleep again, same position, like he's the one who needs cuddling. He probably does.

"It was more intimate this time," she says. "And it was, it was easier being taken hostage this time. Because you were there." She's glad he's not awake to hear that, she's not that brave.


End file.
